Step Up
by Kerrison
Summary: Ziva returns from her time with Mossad with a surprising souvenir.
1. Chapter 1

The commander was face-down in a pool of blood and the open wound from his body had his intestines on display.

It wasn't until she saw the maggots squirming on the red flesh, that she felt her stomach roll and, with a quick mutter about needing something from the van, she fled the scene.

Tony had spared her a cursory glance, knowing full-well what was about to happen.

He handed McGee his camera and left the other Probies on-scene under McGee's guidance to finish with the corpse. It was a very simple-case and one he had no doubt that McGee was ready to take the lead on. Of course, that didn't mean he'd tell Tim that.

His footfalls were fairly quiet through the woods and he couldn't help but wince as he came to the clearing where the truck was parked and saw her.

She had braced an arm against the cool metal of the truck, the other hand holding her hair out of her face. Her body shook as she convulsed, her stomach rippling as it tried to empty itself onto the sidewalk.

Tony stepped up next to her and gently held the hair back with one hand while the other slid a cool and steadying hand against her forehead.

"Easy," he muttered as she retched yet again.

She stood and he held out a handkerchief for her to use to wipe her mouth. Ziva took it without a word, finding herself unable to meet his eyes.

"You should see Ducky when we get back," he said, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his jacket.

"I do not think that is necessary," she said as she moved to reach into the passenger side door and grabbed her bottle of water.

He paused for a moment before speaking and watched as she took a swig of water, rinsed her mouth and spat on the nearby grass.

"This isn't the first time this has happened, Ziva."

She looked up and for the briefest of seconds, Tony thought he saw a hint of panic in her eyes. And then it was gone.

"If it is effecting the cases-"

He spoke, interrupting her protest. "Its not about work. I'm worried about you."

Ziva sighed. "I will be fine."

"Go see Ducky."

She shook her head firmly. "I will be fine."

"Ziva-"

She shot him a murderous look, one he knew not to push. "What, Tony? Will you threaten to tell Gibbs? Tell him what? That I have the flu? Please! Just let it go."

He looked at the ground and fought the urge to kick a rock. He knew he couldn't push her- she had dug her heels in and whenever she did, he knew from experience it was impossible (and somewhat painful) to push her even further.

By sheer force of will, he squared his shoulders and cleared his throat and managed to find his 'boss' voice somewhere. "If you're not better by next week, we're having this conversation in front of Gibbs. Understood?"

Ziva managed a nod and a curt: "Understood."


	2. Chapter 2

Tony was thankful for one thing- it hadn't happened again. Ziva no longer lost her lunch at the sight of a corpse.

Of course, that was primarily because she had conveniently managed to stay away from all the corpses in the last week.

The first time was certainly legitimate: she had a conference call scheduled in MTAC. Oddly, neither he nor Gibbs had been invited to attend. The director, too, had been absent.

The second time she managed to weasel out of a blood-and-guts event, he had seen the air of surprise in McGee's eyes when she claimed a headache and asked to stay behind to research.

The third time was today. A simple shooting where the bullet was through-and-through, leaving little blood or carnage for anyone to view.

She had opened her mouth with what, Tony was sure, would have been a horribly pathetic reason to not attend the scene, but he had interrupted, and asked Gibbs if they could stay behind and finish the report on the previous case. It had sounded reasonable enough- the case was so simple that it almost screamed for McGee to take two Probies to get their feet wet. Gibbs had agreed and rounded up the bumbling newbies and a truck.

Now, several hours later, the office was dim and Tony sat at his desk, watching her from across the aisle.

She had just returned from the ladies' room, again. Third time in an hour, he had noted. He was paid to be observant.

"Are you waiting on a plus sign or two lines?" Tony sighed and steeled himself for the onslaught of flying fists that he knew was headed his way.

Her head snapped up, her eyes wide. "What?"

He cleared his throat. "Well as far as I know, pregnancy tests come in two kinds. The kind that have little pluses or minuses and the kind that have one line or two. I didn't know which one you're waiting on."

Ziva narrowed her eyes at him before returning her gaze intently to the paperwork on her desk. "I'm not waiting on anything."

"Oh," he said, taking in her appearance. The bags under her eyes had doubled in the last week and her normally healthy complexion was pale. She looked drawn- exhausted. "So you've already gotten your results then?"

She dropped her pen on her desk. "What _are _you talking about, Tony?"

"You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"What business is it of yours?" she countered, one hand rubbing her forehead.

"I'm your partner. I need to know exactly how many people I'm responsible for when we're in the field," he replied. _Yeah. That sounds better than 'I'm Nosey,' DiNozzo. _He thought to himself.

Ziva closed her eyes and sighed. "Two," she said softly.

He nodded, not needing to clarify. _Two people. Well... crap. _

"Tony, I will tell Gibbs tomorrow. Please do not-"

He interrupted. "I won't say a thing to him. Wouldn't dream of it."

"Thank you."

"So. Um. Who's the proud papa?" he asked, rising from his seat and slowly walking towards her desk, his hands stuffed in his corduroy pockets.

"Michael," she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her hands across her stomach as she watched him approach.

"From when you were in Tel-Aviv last?" he asked. She nodded in reply and he cleared his throat, hating to ask the next question. "When do you leave?"

Ziva's brows furrowed as she frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"Well you'll go back there and get all Mossad-Married and raise your little rugrat, right? So I assume you're leaving?"

Ziva smirked. "Mossad-Married?"

"I don't know- do you have a special assassin marriage ritual?"

"No, we do not," she said, managing a small chuckle. "But there is no marriage happening any time soon. Special ritual or otherwise."

Tony propped himself against the filing cabinet near her desk and folded his arms across his chest. "Seriously? So I take it you haven't told him yet. I'm sure -"

"I told him," she said, cutting off his words.

"And he won't make an honest woman out of you?" he asked.

Ziva half-smirked. "Michael does not want children. Nor does he want a marriage."

"Oh."

"Yes – Oh," she mocked. "I have paperwork to do," she said curtly, ending the conversation as she turned back to her desk.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony watched as Ziva placed the envelope on Gibbs' desk that morning. Her look had been steadfast but her body language showed the slightest bit of hesitancy as she moved to drop the envelope into place.

She returned to her desk, not saying a word and, it only took a minute or two before the paper was crumpled in Gibbs' hand and he glared across the aisle at Tony.

"DiNozzo! My office. Now," he growled, his voice not offering any room for question.

"Yes, Boss," he muttered, as he followed the older agent to the elevator.

"But Gibbs-" Ziva interjected, standing and holding up a hand to try to forestall the men.

Jethro's eyes sparked as he turned and glared at Ziva. "Sit. Down."

It was a two word order that left absolutely no room for contradiction – Mossad or otherwise – and Ziva felt herself slowly slink back into her chair.

The elevator doors slid closed and Tony felt himself tremor every so slightly, the tension radiating off of Gibbs and making him for the first time, truly fearful of his boss.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat the ever loving crap out of you, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, jamming the emergency-stop button before turning on his agent and pinning him with an icy stare.

"Sorry, Boss?"

"When was this? Los Angeles? Were you two too busy playing grab-ass to watch Jenny? Is _that _why-"

"No, Boss. Absolutely not," Tony interrupted. "There was no grab-ass in Los Angeles." _Although that is __very__ unfortunate, _the playboy in him mentally amended.

"I saw the pictures, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled, referring to the bikini shots of Ziva that Tony had posted on the ship near his desk. "Those are appropriate for teammates now?"

"Maybe not my best decision, Boss. But I swear, nothing happened in Los Angeles."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed on Tony. "If I find out you're lying to me..."

"I'm not, Boss."

Tony swallowed audibly as he watched Gibbs rock back on his heels, his posture changing from 'threatening' to 'accepting' in a mere matter of seconds.

"So when's the kid due?"

Tony's brain screeched to a halt as he finally caught up with Gibbs in the conversation. _He thinks that Ziva and I...and she's pregnant and... oh, crap. _He cleared his throat and made a split-second decision. "Not exactly sure, Boss. I just found out the other night."

Gibbs nodded. "She just tried to resign, DiNozzo," he said. "Did you know she had that planned?"

"I did not."

"Then you two had better figure this out. I'm not accepting her resignation; she's on restricted duty as of five minutes ago. Like hell one of my best agents is leaving out of some antiquated sense of propriety," Gibbs said, jamming the emergency stop button.

Tony nodded. "Yes, Boss."

The doors to the elevators slid open and Tony found Ziva's eyes riveted on him the minute the stepped out.

Gibbs strode to his desk, sparing a cursory glance at Ziva. "David, you're not resigning," he informed her quickly.

Ziva turned her attention to her boss, barely noticing it as Tony stood next to her instead of returning to his desk. "But, Gibbs-"

"You are not resigning," he repeated, enunciating his words clearly. "You're on light duty for the next few months."

"Light duty!?" she squawked.

"Would you prefer for me to have DiNozzo court-marshaled for fraternization?" Gibbs barked, slamming his coffee cup onto his desk.

Ziva frowned, having not caught up with Tony on Gibbs' logic. "Tony? Why-"

Tony put a quieting hand on her shoulder. "No, Boss. That's not necessary."

"Well." Gibbs looked at them for a second before rolling his eyes at them. "Congratulations, you two."

He felt Ziva bristle as she caught up with the other gentlemen on the assumption that Tony was the father of her child.

"Thank you," Tony said quickly, before Ziva could speak up.

"Congratulations for what?" McGee asked, having watched the entire exchange with interest.

"Ziva's pregnant," Gibbs replied.

"Ziva's huh?" Tim gaped, his eyes going wide and flickering between Tony and Ziva.

"Pregnant, McGee. Baby, diapers, the who nine yards?" Gibbs clarified before turning his attention back to the other two agents. "Take the day off- I'll call you if we need you. Go home and discuss this 'resignation' crap that was on my desk this morning," Gibbs instructed. "Communication is used for more than not shooting your partner. Rule 32. Its also the best rule when it comes to raising kids. Talk with each other."

Tony nodded, squeezing Ziva's shoulder ever so slightly with his fingers. "Yes boss. We'll go home and talk."


	4. Chapter 4

The minute the elevator doors slid shut, she spun on him, her eyes fiery. "Why did you do that?"

He shrugged. "Do what?"

Ziva's jaw dropped. "You just told Gibbs that you're the father of this baby!"

"No I did not," he said simply. "Gibbs _assumed. _I just chose not to correct him."

"You are absolutely insane," she hissed. "You just sacrificed your career just because my birth control decided to fail? What is wrong with you?" she quickly Gibb's slapped the back of his head, causing Tony to flinch.

He shrugged, settling his jacket back around his shoulders more comfortably. "I didn't sacrifice anything, Zee-vah."

"He's threatening to court-marshall you!"

Tony smirked slightly. "Its fine. Just... let's go grab a bite to eat and talk like normal people. You know – _not_ in an elevator?"

He watched as Ziva paled slightly and settled a hand over her stomach at the mention of food. "No. No food for me, thanks."

"You need to eat. Have you had anything today?"

She shook her head and sighed, realizing that screaming at Tony in the elevator wasn't going to undo the damage that he had done with Gibbs.

Tony rolled his eyes just as the doors to the elevator slid open on the parking garage. He gently took her elbow and guided her to his mustang. "Let's go find you food that doesn't make you turn that oh-so-attractive shade of green, ok?"

He watched as she sipped the smoothie through the straw.

"Feel better?"

She nodded, tucking a curly lock behind her ear.

"You need to eat," he gently chastised. "Its a little more important now that you have that kid to feed, too. No more skipping meals, Zee-vah."

"What are you? The calorie police?" she countered, glaring at him as she slurped her fruit smoothie again.

He merely rolled his eyes and ignored her biting remarks.

Ziva set the cup down, wiping her hands on her pant legs to rid them from the moisture of the cup's condensation. "What do you want from me, Tony?" she asked carefully.

He frowned, popping another potato chip into his mouth. "What do you mean?" he asked forgetting that he was ever taught manners and speaking with his mouth full.

"What do you want from me in exchange for this charade of yours?" she asked, accenting 'charade' with her beautiful French intonations.

He shrugged. "Nothing."

"I do not believe you," she replied. "There's always something – always a string attached."

Tony shook his head. "Nope. Just thought it'd be easier for you to pretend that I'm the father, rather than have Gibbs, me, and McGeek fly to Israel to kick Rivkin's butt."

"They would not-"

"Oh we _so_ would," Tony countered, popping another potato chip into his mouth. "Mossad or not, they'd be all over him like white on rice, Ziva. You know its true."

She sighed and propped her head on a hand. "Tony," she said, her voice tired. "I am not even sure if I'm going to keep the baby."

His eyes widened. "I didn't know that was an option for you."

"I had never thought about it, really."

"Really?" He asked, his eyebrows raised. "I thought it was something all women thought about. The big 'what if?' question."

She shrugged. "I have always been careful. I never thought I would need to worry."

Tony reached across and stole her smoothie, taking a large slurp before setting it back in front of her, much to Ziva's amusement.

"Is it something you have thought of?" Ziva asked him.

He nodded. "Yeah. Of course. Its not like anyone _wants _to have a back-up plan in case they wind up pregnant. But I think most people have an idea of what they would do."

"And what would you do?"

Tony thought for a moment, trying to decide how to answer. "I don't think you've met my sister Carla- you'd love her. She's fiesty, just like you," he said with a smirk. "But she likes to remind me that as long as I don't have a uterus, my opinion doesn't count for much."

Ziva snickered. "She sounds quite smart."

He cocked an eyebrow in agreement. "But I think that what I'd _prefer _depends on the situation. If I was in a relationship and it was just a surprise pregnancy, I'd like to think that we could raise the kid and give it a good home. I don't think I'd be _too _horrible as a dad."

She nodded, encouraging him to continue.

"But because Michael's an ass and you're going through this alone-" Tony said, his voice taking on a dangerous lilt as he spoke of Michael's decision.

"He's not an ass, Tony," she interrupted, defending her former lover. "He is just not ready for a family."

"That's all fine and dandy, Ziva, but even I, the king of no-commitment-sex, would step up if my partner was pregnant!"

Ziva felt a tear creep into her eye unexpectedly and she blinked it away. She covered his hand with her own across the cafe-table. "You stepped up for me."

He smirked. "You're my partner, aren't you?"


	5. Chapter 5

A kidnapping had dominated the week and, luckily, the baby had been reunited with his parents after only two days.

Ziva had lost her temper twice during interrogation with the kidnapper– not surprising to Gibbs, but scaring the hell out of Tony. The way her eyes had flashed and her body twinged as if she was on edge to strike at any moment had Tony move towards the door to the interrogation room quickly. Gibbs' hand on his shoulder had stopped him mid-stride.

"Relax, Dinozzo."

"She's gonna put him through the wall, Boss!"

Gibbs chuckled. "She's just found her mother-bear instinct," he said, a knowing glint in his eye.

Tony frowned. "You think so? Ziva? Really?"

The grey haired man nodded. "Didn't you see her when speaking with Officer Ingles? I don't think I've ever seen her that sympathetic."

Tony turned his gaze back to the observation window and watched as Ziva finally cracked a confession out of the suspect, nailing a location on the baby's where-abouts. They all had jumped into action, moving with urgency towards their vehicles to find the baby.

Tony had managed to find the two minutes to put his hands on her shoulders and kiss her forehead quickly- the only reassurance he could offer at the moment other than a "Good work, David."

They had barely had five minutes to themselves the rest of the day. Between finding the toddler, getting him to the hospital to be checked over, taking statements and filling out their reports, it was the end of the day by the time they got back to the office.

She had merely grabbed her backpack and disappeared.

He hadn't called her cell. He hadn't harassed her for her plans for the night, or another chance to talk about her pregnancy.

He reminded himself he had no right to be involved in her business.

It was all acting – he was just playing the part.


	6. Chapter 6

He had dozed off in front of the TV, the ring of the phone startling him into wakefulness.

"DiNozzo," he muttered, his voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry. I did not mean to wake you," her voice was gravely, as if she had spent hours fighting off tears.

The sound of her voice so unlike its normal sultry tones had him sitting up and blinking back sleep.

"Ziva? Its fine. What's wrong?"

"I just- nothing. Never mind."

"No- Ziva," he spoke quickly, hoping to catch her before she hung up. "What's wrong? Where are you?"

"In my car." He heard her take a shaky breath. "In your driveway. Can I come up?"

"What?" Tony practically barked into the phone and rushed to the door, sticking his head out and seeing her Mini parked behind his Mustang.

He flipped his phone shut and set it on the hall table and headed out the door, barefoot across the dewy grass. He grabbed at the handle to her door and yanked it open. "What's wrong?"

Climbing out of the car, she stood and let him put worried hands on her arms. She shut the door to the car and moved wordlessly into his embrace.

Tony frowned as he settled his arms around her in an unexpected hug. _What's wrong with this picture?_

He squeezed her to him before turning and guiding them both towards his front door. "Inside, Ziva."

She nodded, leaning against him in a very atypical posture.

When Tony shut the door behind him and gently peeled her light jacket from her shoulders, he finally registered the bags under her eyes and guided her to the couch. "Have you eaten?"

Her curls bobbed as she shook her head 'no.'

Tony rolled his eyes and huffed. "Didn't we have this conversation earlier this week?" he groused, moving to the kitchen to grab a Powerbar.

When he finally sat on the couch next to her, she fiddled with the wrapper on the Powerbar, making no moves to eat.

"I had a doctor's appointment today. I went to see how far along I was. And to see if I could-" she stopped, swallowing and visibly fighting with her emotions. "Terminate the pregnancy."

His mouth went dry and he could have sworn he felt his heart skip a beat. Tony could do nothing other than nod.

She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and pulled out a black and white print out. She fingered the edge for a moment before handing it to him.

"I am a good assassin. And a good investigator." Ziva started. "And I do not think I have the skills to be a parent."

He listened intently, watching the range of emotions cross her normally stoic face. Tony's eyes flicked down to the paper in his hand and suddenly he was mesmerized. The black and white showed signs of static in the photo but he was still able to make out a kidney bean shaped object; obviously the baby's first sonogram photo.

Tony swallowed the unexpected lump in his throat. "Wow."

She nodded. "I heard the heartbeat."

His eyebrows shot up and he turned to regard her with a surprised look. "Is that, um, typical for an abortion visit?" There really was no delicate way to ask the question.

Ziva shook her head again. "No. But since it was my first doctor's visit, they needed to make sure everything was normal- apparently the technician forgot to mute the sound."

"Wow," he said again, his thumb absently tracing over the sonogram in a reverent move. He took a breath. "So... are you ok? Is there anything I can do?"

She half-smiled. "I did not... I am still pregnant, Tony," she supplied, blinking as she felt the tears in her eyes.

"Why?" he asked. "You seemed pretty set on not being pregnant."

Ziva shrugged. "I just couldn't do it. I know it is what is best for some women and I do _not _judge them. But I could not do it," she paused and watched Tony's face for reaction as she continued. "I have spent my career taking lives. Killing. I am weary of death."

Tony nodded and grinned at her. "I heard a rumor today from McGee."

"And what is that?" She asked, somewhat glad for his gentle change in topic.

"Abby's taking knitting classes."

"What?"

Tony chuckled and set the sonogram back on the coffee table. "McGossipy told her about the bun in your oven and she decided you'd need knitted baby booties. So she signed herself up for a knitting class."

"Oh god," she managed to groan as she felt herself chuckle. It was the first chuckle she had uttered all week and it felt foreign in her mouth.

"He's a little concerned he might piss her off while she's got one of those long knitting needles in her hand. I think Probie might loose an eye."

She snickered, covering her mouth as she felt another chuckle bubble up.

"Then you'd be forced to name the baby after him," he added. "If he takes a needle because of your kid, you're going to spend the rest of your life chasing a little McGoo around NCIS."

Ziva threw her head back and laughed, the day's events set aside while she was reminded how to smile.


	7. Chapter 7

They heard the door to MTAC slam and, no sooner than the latch clicked shut was Tim on his feet and standing somewhat confidently in front of Tony's desk.

"Yes, Probie?" Tony queried, his head turning from having watched Gibbs' enter MTAC. "What can I do for you?"

Tim cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "So. How was she?"

Tony's eyebrows rose. _He did not just go there, did he? _"I hope you're not asking me what I think you're asking me. And if you are, you'd better be glad Ziva's not here to kill you."

"I'm serious, Tony. How was she? This is the first time that I haven't heard the tales of your prowess. I mean, she's Ziva- I'm curious. As wild in bed as any normal man would imagine?"

Tony stiffened. "Probie, if you know what's good for you-"

"What?" Tim countered. "I get harassed every time I sneeze, but you two lied to Gibbs and I'm not allowed to act a little curious?"

"You can be curious, McGee," he heard a voice in his ear and Tim jumped slightly, startled. "But assuming that I'm a – how do you call it, sex tiger? - is a bit far."

"Kitten," Tony corrected before smirking. "Though tiger is appropriate. You're wild in bed, Zi," he said adding a purr and a wink in her direction.

She smirked and saw a faint blush heat McGee's cheeks. "We're lying about what exactly, McGee?"

He shrugged his shoulders uncomfortably. "You're ten weeks pregnant," he said firmly. "You said so today when Gibbs found the sonogram on Tony's desk."

"And?" Tony countered.

"There's no way, unless your ship did a completely unscheduled and undocumented dock in the Port of Casablanca, that you could possibly be the father of that baby," McGee stuffed his hands in his pockets, his shoulders set confidently. "Ten weeks ago, you were at sea. She was singing in a lounge. You were 424 nautical miles apart. So either Tony's got some seriously strong sperm, or there is no way this baby is his."

"Hearing you discuss my sperm is just a stomach-churner," Tony said, wincing as he stood and towered over McGee.

Ziva's lips twitched before she spoke. "Tim, when have I asked you for a favor?"

McGee frowned. "Uh, not ever."

She nodded firmly. "Then I am asking for one now. Pretend like you never figured any of that out, hmm?" She tapped his cheek with her palm lightly and turned, grabbed her backpack and dissapeared into the stairwell.

"Why should I?" McGee countered, turning to Tony.

"Because, Probie, if you don't, I'll let her take out her raging hormonal mood-swings on you instead of me, ok?" Tony replied, grabbing his own bag and following Ziva into the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

The strings of Hebrew from the other side of her bedroom door made him chuckle. Profanity sounded the same in any language.

"It can't be _that _bad, Ziva. Come on," he called to her, startling slightly as the door slammed open and she came out, scowling.

He chuckled as he looked at her face, his eyes sliding down to her waist and, suddenly the chuckle died in his throat.

"They do not fit! They fit two weeks ago! Today? Today they decide not to fit!"

Tony couldn't pull his eyes away from her abdomen. Her pants, unable to be button, gapped, and the soft blue silk of her underwear caught his eye. Her skin swelled slightly, straining against the new growth of life.

For the first time in a long time, Tony was unable to speak. More unsettling was that he wasn't sure if it was the sight of her soft skin and lacy, silky panties, or the sight of her pregnant stomach that had him tongue tied. _Never have you thought of pregnant women as sexy, DiNozzo,_ he chastised himself.

"See? Its so horrific you cannot even find the words to mock my fat!" she huffed, turning back to her room only to find her hand caught in a firm but gentle grip.

Tony tugged her back until she flopped onto the couch next to him.

"Its not fat, its a baby. And its not horrific- its actually kinda sexy," he said, smirking at her stomach. "Who knew?"

Ziva looked at him as if he'd grown a third head. "Sexy? Tony, did you hit your head on something? This is not sexy. This is fat!"

"Its not fat!" He countered, chuckling. He shifted slightly and felt himself unintentionally reach out towards her belly and managed to catch himself before his assassin partner chopped off his hand. "Um....Sorry."

She watched him with a skeptical look. "Really? You want to touch it?"

"Can I?"

Ziva shrugged and took his hand and placed it on her stomach where he could best feel the firmness caused by the baby.

She watched his face as he gently touched the skin over the baby, the stomach firm yet fluid at the same time. Ziva felt her eyes flutter closed as she relaxed into the couch, letting him gently and tentatively prod her belly.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," she replied, shifting closer to him on the sofa. "Tony, can I ask you something and you will be one hundred percent honest?"

He pulled his hand away quickly, instinct making him fear the worst. "Yeah. Sure you can."

She turned her head and regarded him steadily. "Is this about sleeping with me?"

"What? Wha- what are you talking about?" Tony stuttered, visibly flinching by her words.

"I still do not understand why you are taking responsibility for this child. Is it because I am a conquest then? Another notch on your bed-knob?"

"Bedpost," he corrected absently. "And no."

"Then why?"

Tony shrugged. "Why do you think I always have an ulterior motive, Ziva?"

She scoffed. "Because you usually do!"

"Does it bother you that much, Zee-vah?" he said, standing up and heading towards the door. "To let people think that you'd lower yourself enough to sleep with me? Does it disgust you to let people think it might be my baby?"

"Tony-"

He twisted the doorknob in his grip, glaring at her fiercely. "Do what you want with the kid. Tell them its mine, tell them its not. I don't care, Da-veed. Just make sure to fill me in on what role I'm playing this week, ok?"

Ziva couldn't help but jump as the door slammed behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

She had steadfastly refused a baby-shower, despite Abby's firm protests that it was something that every expectant mother deserved.

Ziva, however, refused to be that much of a 'girl' as to sit through the obligatory shower-games and pink frufru that Google had indicated was customary at such events.

But when a small blue box showed up on Tony's desk a two weeks later, Ziva had looked just as curious as Tony.

DiNozzo glanced around the room, finding Gibbs eying them knowingly. "Gonna open that, DiNozzo?"

Tony ripped the tape with the side of his thumb and popped the lid open.

He felt the smile settle over his features as he pulled the small hat out of the box, turning it so Ziva could see. She, too, grinned at the sight.

The black baby-sized cap sported a "Jr. NCIS" logo embroidered across the front and a much smaller, more discrete "Semper fi" on the back adjustable band.

"You wouldn't happen to know where this came from, would you Gibbs?" Ziva said, grinning as she stood and crossed the aisle, fingering the cap in Tony's hands.

He got a quick nod. "Yep."

"Thanks, Boss," Tony said, in way of acknowledgment.

Gibbs shrugged before hiding behind his coffee mug. "Well with you two as parents, this kid'll be the most dangerous, sarcastic child the world has ever known. If we don't recruit her to work for NCIS at an early age, we'll spend the rest of ours years trying to solve the cases she leaves in her wake."

Tony laughed outloud and McGee could be heard chuckling over the desk-partition. Ziva merely gaped at Gibbs and blinked.

"She? A girl, Gibbs?"

"Fifty-Fifty chance, Ziva," Tim piped in.

"I hope it is not a girl, McGee," she replied quickly.

"Oh it's definitely a girl, Zee-vah," Tony added.

"Why do I sense a highly illegal baby pool on the way?" Tim asked.

"Oh, I'm in," Tony said, wiping out a $50 and handing it to McGee over the partition.

"Put me down, too," Gibbs replied, handing his bill over to McGee before walking towards the elevator. "I'll tell Ducky- I'm sure he'll want to put in, too."

Tony made a swift mark in the air with an imaginary pencil: "Start saving for the baby's college – check."

"No! It cannot be a girl," Ziva said, her face tinged with mild panic. "I do not know how to raise a girl! There's pink. And bows. And braids. And dresses. And makeup. I cannot handle those things!"

Tony felt himself start to chuckle before realizing exactly how worried Ziva really was. He walked around his desk and sat on the end, handing her the tiny hat and putting a hand gently on her hip. "Those things aren't necessary, Ziva. She could grow up just like her mom."

"Now is not the time to mock my jim-boy-ness, Tony!" She said, glaring at him.

"I think you mean Tom-boy, Ziva," McGee corrected. "And its not a bad thing. Tony's right. You'll make an awesome mom."

"She'll grow up having a fantastic right-hook," Tony said, grinning as he saw Abby come up behind Ziva and catch the gist of the conversation quickly.

"She'll be able to outrun all the boys in her class so they can never pull her pigtails," Abby said, sliding into the conversation deftly. She handed Tim her fifty dollar bill before passing over two others. "Palmer and Ducky are in the Baby Pool, too," she supplied.

Tim slipped the money into an envelope with the other bills he'd received. "Oh- and she'll speak several languages. That'll help with SAT scores and college scholarships!" McGee grinned.

"Plus the girl will have some seriously sexy legs, if she takes after her mom," Tony added, his voice dropping slightly and a sultry gleam in his eyes as he checked out her shapely legs.

"That's your kid you're talking about, Tony!" Abby chastised.

Tony opened his mouth to correct her, but before he could, Tim jumped in. "I'm sure Tony's well aware of the dating years his daughter will experience. After all the girl's he took advantage of, how could he not be worried. Right, Tony?"

Again, before he could reply and rectify his earlier lie, Tony was cut off. This time by a gentle Israeli finger placed to his lips.

"I'm sure the sight of him cleaning his gun will scare off any date with bad intentions." Ziva said. "That's a father's job, yes?"

He smiled slightly, his lips curling against the finger she held in place. Ever so subtley he let his lips pucker and kissed her finger.


	10. Chapter 10

Somehow she managed to balance the pizza box, the size pack of beer, and unlock the door to her apartment. It was not something they trained you on in Mossad. Tony, however, had demonstrated the fine art of beer-food balance that she had picked up a few pointers.

She found him sitting on her sofa when she opened the door and she rolled her eyes.

"Did you have a key made when I was not looking?" she asked, tossing her keys and wallet on the entry way table.

Tony was sitting on her sofa, book in hand and a deep crease furrowing his brow.

"Tony? What are you reading?" She asked, setting the pizza and beer on the coffee table and sitting next to him on the sofa.

He tilted the book sideways and frowned again. "Ugh. That's just.... Ugh!"

She pulled the book from his hand and regarded the cover. "What to expect when you're expecting? Why are you reading this?"

"Apparently I wanted to ruin my appetite," he replied, grabbing a beer and twisting the lid off the bottle before taking a pull.

She looked at the photo, unable to keep the grimace off her own face. "Oh my," she muttered before quickly shutting the book.

"That's gonna hurt, Ziva," he said, gently patting her shoulder.

She closed her eyes and winced. "I believe that is why they have drugs, Tony, yes?"

He nodded. "Is that what you want? Drugs? The book says we're supposed to have a birthing plan. We're supposed to write down all the things you want-"

"We?" She interrupted.

He nodded. "We."

"Tony, taking responsibility with Gibbs is enough. I did not expect your help. I do not expect you to actually be my labor coach, either."

Tony shrugged. "What you expect and what I want to do are two different things, Da-veed."

"Why?" She stood and tossed her hands up in frustration. "Why are you doing this!? This goes way beyond one partner protecting another!"

He took another pull from his beer and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I didn't have much of a father."

It was a simple reply, but enough to make her pause in her pacing and her shoulders relax ever so slightly.

"Tony," she started, her voice a softer tone with a hint of a sigh to it. "You don't have to do this. I can do this alone."

"I know you can," he said. "You're the strongest person I know, Ziva. I have no doubt that you're going to be one kick ass mama."

She sat on the sofa next to him again, not saying a word.

Tony continued, setting his beer on the table and wiping his hands on his knees. "I don't want your kid growing up without a father. Its hard, Ziva. You should know- you weren't close with your father."

"Papa and I have had our differences," she agreed with a slight nod.

"I can do this - if you let me," Tony said. "I can teach her the rules of baseball. I can teach her to change the spark-plugs on a car. I can teach her to play poker. I can teach her how to know when one of her rat-bastard boyfriends is out to get into her pants-- and how to knee him in the crotch _just _right. "

He paused briefly and looked at her out of the corner of his eye before continuing. "You can teach her how to play piano. And speak twenty seven different languages. And how to walk in high heels."

Ziva chuckled. "I might have to get Abby to help with that one. She's much better than I am."

Tony smiled, ignoring her interruption. "I can help with the midnight feedings and the doctor's appointments. And I can be there to hold your hand and scream at me when you're in labor. I can give her a father if you let me."

She smirked. "You did not mention diapers."

His lip curled in disgust. "I think we're going to have to negotiate for diapers and potty training."

"Oh?"

Tony shrugged and a cocky smile graced his features. "I'm sure we can arrange sexual favors in payment for diaper duty."

She smacked his arm lightly and laughed.


	11. Chapter 11

He didn't remember the drive between the office and Bethesda.

Tony's last conscious memory was when he heard McGee's voice across the cell phone: "Tony, you need to get to Bethesda. Its Ziva."

Everything after that was a blur.

He sprinted across the hospital parking lot and barely kept his footing running on the linoleum floor in the waiting room. He barely registered the hand on his chest, stopping him from barreling down the hall and raiding every room looking for Ziva. He stopped himself from shrugging the hand off when he realized it belonged to Gibbs.

Tony's eyes were wide and he had to force himself to focus.

He took in McGee's distraught face, fear and sorrow in his eyes as the probie sat in a chair, his head propped against the wall and his gaze regarding the ceiling. If Tony looked closely, he'd see tears welling in Tim's eyes.

He turned to Gibbs. The older man had a similar distraught look on his face and, if possible, it seemed Gibbs had aged ten more years since that morning.

"Is she--" Tony started, unable to finish the sentence.

"She's alive," Gibbs said simply, not elaborating.

"God, Tony, I'm so sorry," McGee managed to say around the lump in his throat. He continued, unprompted. "We just went to talk to Captain Trattel and pick up the folder on Corporal Raver. It was supposed to just be an in-and-out - no confrontation. He saw us flash our badges and..."

McGee's voice trailed off and Tony and Gibbs watched him visibly swallow and close his eyes against the tears.

"He just took off. He barreled through me and shoved Ziva into the wall; she hit water-fountain. I started to go after him, Boss, I swear- but when I saw the blood..."

Gibbs nodded. "Its ok, McGee," Gibbs moved and sat next to the younger agent, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You made the right call. Team comes first."

McGee turned his eyes to Tony, almost begging for forgiveness.

"You took care of her? Got her here?" Tony asked, his voice crackly with pent emotion. When Tim nodded, he continued: "Thank you."

The relief on McGee's face was impossible to miss. He sighed.

"Leroy Gibbs?" A voice called, all three men's heads turning and regarding a nurse with a clipboard in her hands.

They all stood, and the nurse's eyes flicked between them, somewhat amused. "Ms. David is ready for visitors. She'll be discharged in about an hour."

Gibbs and McGee silently stepped back and sat back in the uncomfortable hospital chairs.

"Go on, DiNozzo," Gibbs said when his senior agent turned questioning eyes on him.

Tony nodded and followed the nurse down the corridor. His footsteps echoed off the walls and the sound of monitors beeping and the hushed medical conversations of the staff creating a soundtrack to a moment in his life he'd rather never experience.

The nurse stepped aside and gestured to the room, allowing Tony to enter on his own. He left his confident swagger at the door, his movements filled with hesitancy and uncertainty.

She sat cross legged on the bed, her hands in her lap as she idly picked at her thumbnail.

"Hi," he said as he stepped towards her bed and allowed the hospital door to shut behind him, offering them both some privacy.

She looked up, her brown eyes reflecting an unexpected pain.

"Hi."

Tony stood next to her bed, leaning his hip against it slightly. "'How do you feel?' seems kinda inappropriate," he said. "But I don't know what else to ask."

Ziva looked up and met his eyes. "I feel very confused," she admitted.

He sat down on the bed, very gently lacing his fingers with her own and gently squeezing her hand.

She continued through his silence. "I was ready to get rid of my baby," she said and sniffled. "And then when I finally decided to keep it, God takes it away from me."

"Zi," he breathed, his own voice shaky. "Maybe it just wasn't the right time," he offered.

Her eyes looked up, questioningly.

Tony continued. "When I was growing up, we had this hippie neighbor. She was into crystals and meditation and all this wacky stuff," he started. "I remember that she had a miscarriage. And she wasn't upset- no one seemed to understand why. So, me and my big mouth, I asked her. She just kinda shrugged and said she wasn't worried. Her baby would be back when she was ready."

"Tony-" Ziva started but was silenced when he squeezed her hand gently.

"You're going to be a great mom some day. Maybe not as soon as we thought, but... someday some kid's gonna be very lucky, " he pulled her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "I'm sorry, Ziva."

Ziva moved closer to him and Tony got the hint, pulling her into his arms and tugging her into his lap somewhat.

He planted a kiss tot he top of her head and felt her nestle her face into the crook of his neck, seeking comfort. He sighed and rubbed her back gently.

Ziva pulled away after a few moments of his comforting arms. "I am sorry too, Tony," she said softly, planting a gentle kiss on his jaw line. "You would have made an excellent father."

Tony grinned slightly, "Ya think?"

"Oh yes," she nodded. "Definitely. Some baby will be very lucky."

He grinned and managed a gentle wink. "Do me a favor, Da-Veed. When you're ready to try motherhood again, give _me _a call, not some Mossad hairy-chested-irresponsible-prick, ok?"


	12. Chapter 12

Three more days.

Just three more days with Ziva at home recuperating.

Then the team would be back together again and the insanity of the office would disappear.

McGee's broody self-loathing silence would go away. Abby would come up stairs and squeal, wrapping Ziva in a huge hug. Gibbs would come over, peck her cheek discretely before ordering them all back to work.

And Ziva, being Ziva, would pretend as if there was nothing for anyone to make a fuss over.

She would pretend as if she hadn't just miscarried. As if she wasn't hurting.

Tony knew it was a lie; he knew she was in turmoil, despite her words to the contrary. She kept saying "I'm fine" but her eyes wouldn't shut up.

He had gone over to her place every night to check on her. She had stopped trying to turn him away and shove him aside when he tried to walk into her apartment. Now she just half-grinned at him and stepped out of the way as sauntered into the apartment, intent on cooking them both a healthy meal.

They would discuss everything except the baby. That was her preference and one he was able to respect. There were still things she had to deal with on her own before she could discuss them with anyone, least of all him.

Ducky, Abby, Gibbs, McGee and, surprisingly even Vance had left small "Get well soon" cards on Tony's desk. Without asking, they knew he'd be at her place nightly and would act as delivery-boy for their well-wishes.

It seemed to have just been accepted that they were partners in every sense.

His hands were full of black roses that night, a gift from Abby of course. And he stopped by his place to change into his casual clothes before heading to his nightly dinner date at Casa David.

The package was waiting for him on his doorstep. When he caught a look at the return address label, he felt a lump rise in his throat.

_Damned impulse buy,_ he thought, ripping the box open and pulling out the small baby sleeper in large Orange, White, and Green stripes. Baby clothes that left the parentage to no-one's imagination. Packaged underneath was a white blanket, the Star of David embroidered in a soft blue embellishing the corner.

Tony sighed and shoved down his emotion as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft grey sweatshirt. On his way out the door, he grabbed the roses and, impulsively, the baby items as well.

He knocked on her door, expecting a quick reply as was their custom lately. But it took a bit longer for her to answer- long enough for him to frown when she opened the door.

"Tony," she said, her shoulders relaxing as she took in the sight of him.

He grinned. "I come bearing gifts!" he handed her the roses, the other items clenched in his fist.

Ziva stepped aside, allowing the door to swing open and causing Tony's face to fall.

In the armchair, sat the dark complected man that he had seen a photo of once. Rivkin.

"I didn't know you had company," Tony said, his voice icy.

She shifted nervously. "It was a surprise for me, too."

"Officer DiNozzo," Rivkin said, standing up and offering a hand across the coffee table. "It is good to finally meet you."

Tony glared at him and made no move to shake Rivkin's hand. He turned to Ziva and pressed the baby-items into her hand. "I just wanted to drop these off for you. I ordered them last week. I'll see you at work tomorrow," he said before turning on his heel and hopping into his car.

"Tony. Wait-" she called after him, her voice drowned out as his Mustang's engine roared to life.


	13. Chapter 13

80.

90.

Tony watched the needle climb on the Mustang's speedometer.

110.

He slammed his fist into the steering wheel, cursing under his breath as he slowed and pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

He rested his head against the headrest and sighed.

_Well, Fuck. _

His eyes flicked to his mirrors, checking traffic, and he pulled back into the road, headed back the way he came.

-----

"Michael," she started with a weary sigh before steeling her nerves and setting her shoulders into her typical 'I mean business' posture. "You need to go," she kept her hand on the doorknob, the door open.

"I thought I would stay here," he supplied, gesturing to her apartment. "I did not get a hotel room."

Her eyes flared at his assumptions. "I am not responsible for your sleeping arrangements. You made it clear that you want no part of my life-"

Rivkin cut her off, stepping towards her. "I needed time to think, _Bachurah_. We did not plan this."

_Woman? That is all he calls me? Woman? _Ziva seethed. "No, Michael, that is why they call it a _surprise!_" she replied.

"Ziva-"

"Get out, Michael. I do not need you. Nor do I want you here," she said firmly, her hand still on the doorknob.

"I am not going anywhere. This is my child, Ziva," He narrowed his eyes and dropped his voice to a threatening level. "You have no right to ask me to leave. "

"She has every right," a voice growled from the doorway. Ziva had been so focused on her confrontation with Michael, she had not noticed Tony's return. "The woman asked you to leave, Rivkin."

"This is not your concern, Officer DiNozzo," Michael said, turning and squaring off against Tony. "This is a family matter."

"I'm sure it is," Tony replied. "If I know Ziva's family at all, and I _think _I do, you being here is probably a result of Daddy Dearest threatening your life for knocking up his daughter."

Michael's hand twitched, forming a fist. "I advise you to leave, DiNozzo. I have business to finish with Ziva."

Tony took another step towards Michael, only to be stopped as Ziva moved between the two men, placing hands on their chests. "Stop. Both of you!" she barked.

"Your father does not want him involved in this, Ziva," Michael said through clenched teeth.

"It is not his choice, Michael," she replied. "It is my choice. Just as it was your choice to not want a part of your child's life."

_Sooo... someone doesn't know about the miscarriage,_ Tony thought, mentally smirking as he found the trump card.

"You have no say in this matter, Ziva," Rivkin barked. "I am the father. _I_ decide."

Ziva turned, her back to Tony and her arms folded across her chest. "No, Michael, you do not decide. God decides," Tony felt his hands settle on her shoulders in an unconscious gesture of protection and solidarity. "There is no baby. Go home."

Rivkin's eyes narrowed and flicked between Tony and Ziva. "No baby?"

"There is no baby," she repeated. Tony felt her muscles tense beneath is fingers as she spoke the words.

It happened in mere seconds. Rivkin's hand flew back, open palm.

Tony saw the motion and shoved Ziva asside, his own hand pulling back in a perfectly formed fist. He swung, landing a fierce right hook to Rivkin's jaw and sending the Mossad agent reeling backwards and landing on Ziva's carpet with a distinct thud.

Tony pounced, landing a second punch to Rivkin's nose before grabbing the man's collar and hoisting him to his feet.

"If you _ever _raise a hand to her again..." Tony glared, shoving Rivkin towards the door.

"Harag," Rivkin spoke in Hebrew, spitting as he glared at Ziva. "Your father will be disgusted."

"Pappa is not God. And it was God who decided, Michael," she said simply.

"I believe the lady asked you to leave several times. Why you're not on the other side of the door, I still don't understand," Tony said, his hand on Rivkin's back as he propelled the man forward.

Rivkin tensed, turning in the doorway and glaring at the two of them. A small trickle of blood tinted his chin as the split-lip Tony gave him started to seep.

"You've got no business here, Rivkin. Go back to Tel-Aviv. Tell Director David that if he's got any other concerns about Ziva, he comes to me," Tony said firmly, closing the door in Rivkin's face.

* * *


	14. Chapter 14

A million possible things flit across her tongue to say to him.

_I can protect myself._

_My father goes through you now? _

_I do not need you taking my punches for me._

_You shoved me out of the way._

She is unable to speak any of those words, instead merely sighing.

"I, um,..." Tony started, his voice trailing off as he realized he had no words for his recent actions. He cleared his throat and clenched and unclenched his now-sore fist. "Ziva, he was going to hit you."

She shrugged, "Yes."

"He was going to _hit _ you," Tony repeated, eyes wide.

Ziva nodded. "Yes. And I would have hit him back."

Tony shook his hand, trying to take the sting from his knuckles. "I don't get you, David."

"What is to 'get', Tony?" She asked, walking to the kitchen and putting some ice cubes into a towel.

"You slept with him. And he was going to hit you." He followed and allowed her to take his hand, covering it with the ice-pack.

"Yes," she repeated, her voice growing weary of the repetitive conversation.

"Why aren't you upset by that?" He shouted.

"Because that is how he is," she said simply. "I cannot change him any more than I can change you, Tony."

He regarded her for a moment, not speaking the many things that rolled through his head. He cleared his throat. "So is that a requirement to sleep with you? Being a bastard?" He questioned in a very conversational tone.

She nailed him with a strong glare. "Tony, do not say those things tonight, please. I do not want to fight with you, too."

_Danger, Will Robinson. Ziva just said please. _He flexed his hand beneath the ice pack, feeling the muscles stiffening. It was going to be swollen tomorrow. Gibbs was going to give him hell.

Ziva watched him regard his hand with a cautious eye before speaking. "Why did you come back tonight?"

He looked up, somewhat startled she would ask. "I have no idea."

"You have no idea?"

Tony nodded. "I got half way home and just – I don't know, Ziva. I didn't want you to be pissed at me for walking away. Its not as if you don't have enough to deal with. I didn't want to give you another reason to hate me."

Ziva smirked and held his injured hand in her own, shifting the ice gently. "I do not hate you, Tony."

"That's good."

"You said you got half way home."

He nodded.

"How fast were you going?"

Tony winced, knowing she would do the mental-math. "Fast enough."

"Tony, I have no intention of attending your funeral any time soon. I would appreciate it if you didn't kill yourself. Especially not in your precious car," she took the ice pack off and deftly stroked the back of his hand with her fingertips, probing the bones very gently and hearing him hiss as she hit a sore spot.

"I knew you just wanted me for my car when I died," he teased, trying to joke through the pain in his hand.

"Yes. You are right," she teased, steering him to her breakfast-table chair and pushing gently on his shoulders until he sat. "The reason I put up with your pig-headed behavior is so that I can drive that testosterone-mobile when you die from doing something stupid because you could not control yourself."

"Hey-"

She glared at him, cutting off his protest. "You broke a bone in your hand. I can reset it but you are going to cry like a girl."

"I will not," he scoffed.

She shifted her stance slightly, and reset her grip on each side of his hand. Ziva caught his eye before jerking her hands apart quickly and allowing the bone to slide back into place.

His agonizing cry was sharp and loud and he managed to close his eyes against the pain.

"A little warning next time, David!" he barked, another wave of discomfort ripping through him.

Ziva ducked her head, silencing him with her lips against his own.

When she pulled back, her face was an interesting mix of uncertain, embarrassed and proud. Tony took in her expression with wary eyes. "What was that for?"

She kissed him again, this time quicker- more of a caress of lips. "You broke your hand defending my honor. It was the least I could do."

Tony grinned his patented DiNozzo playboy grin, his good hand resting on her hip and stopping her from stepping away too soon. "Totally worth it," he whispered, his fingers tightening quickly on her hip before releasing her in a show of respect.

Ziva chuckled. "Let me wrap your hand. It will be very sore tomorrow," she moved to her bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit, leaving her partner in the kitchen with many thoughts swarming his head.


	15. Chapter 15

The case had wrapped early and McGee, Abby and Palmer had gone to play Dungeons and Dragons. Early nights were a treasured commodity with the group and, while they had been kind enough to invite Tony to join them, none were surprised when he declined.

Gibbs had debriefed Vance and then disappeared down to Ducky's autopsy for the last several hours, leaving Tony to finish up the excess paperwork.

"Go home, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, setting a cup of coffee on Tony's desk as he strode by. "You've got other things at home that are more important."

"Boss?"

"Go take care of Ziva," Gibbs said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"She's actually pretty content taking care of herself, Boss," Tony replied, returning to his paperwork.

Gibbs loomed over Tony's desk, glaring at his senior agent. "DiNozzo, you two just lost a baby. Regardless of what she says, go spend time with her. Go shopping. Get take-out. Give her a foot-rub. I don't care what you two do. Grieve."

Tony turned towards Gibbs and regarded him with a wary eye before clearing his throat. "Boss....," he started, his voice abnormally low and reserved. He couldn't look at Gibbs as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes trained on his desktop. "I wasn't the father."

To Tony, it felt like hours that Gibbs stood there glaring daggers of disapproval.

In fact it was mere seconds before the older man allowed the knowing twinkle to show in his eye.

"I know, DiNozzo."

Tony almost choked with surprise. "Boss?"

"For some reason, my team thinks I'm stupid," Gibbs grumbled. "You were on a ship, DiNozzo. The math didn't work. I've known since I saw the sonogram."

"Why didn't you say something, Boss?"

Gibbs smirked. "I was enjoying being proud of you, Tony," he said gently. "Didn't wanna ruin it."

Tony regarded Gibbs with surprise. _Proud?_

The silver-haired agent continued in a gentle voice. "There aren't many men that would step up and take responsibility for another man's baby. Especially not when it meant possibly losing their job."

Tony nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat that had risen when Gibbs said he was proud. "Would have been worth it, Boss."

"Worth what?"

"Everything," Tony said softly. "Seeing her be a mom. Helping her raise a baby. It would have been worth it."

Gibbs nodded. "Kids always are. Kelly was worth everything," he said simply.

It was one of the few times that Gibbs spoke openly about his daughter and Tony didn't take the moment for granted. He nodded respectfully, no witty retort crossing his lips.

Gibbs took a swig from his coffee cup. "Go home, DiNozzo," he repeated.

"I should really finish this report, Boss," Tony said simply, turning back to the computer and waiting for Gibb's shadow to move away before allowing his mind to drift from the incident report on the screen in front of him.

"It would have been worth it?" A soft voice interrupted his day dreaming a few moments later.

He turned his head and took in Ziva's casually dressed appearance and her comfortable position leaning against the corner of his desk.

"Hey. What are you doing here?"

"I came to take you to dinner," she replied simply. "But now I want to hear more about how 'worth it' we would have been. Worth losing your job?"

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to be curious," she said, gently toying with the car-keys in her hand.

He turned in his chair, noting as he did so that Gibbs was nowhere to be seen.

She smirked at him. "Worth losing your job?" she repeated.

Tony half-shrugged. "You can't always have your cake and eat it, too. If I had to choose, it really wasn't a contest."

Ziva looked down, a lock of dark hair falling in her face. She felt him move to brush it out of her eyes and tuck it behind her ear for her. She quickly turned her head, landing a whisper of a kiss to his wrist before he pulled his hand away.

"You've changed," she said, resting one flip-flop covered foot on the chair, her toes brushing against his leg.

"In a good way or a bad way?" he asked, consciously keeping his hands to himself.

She shrugged. "I am not complaining."

"You're just saying that because I didn't question your medical skills last night," he said, holding up his bandaged hand with a grin.

"Perhaps," she agreed, repressing a grin. "Also because the man I met five years ago would never have risked his precious career to protect a crazed assassin and another man's baby."

"First off, you're not a crazed assassin. You're an investigator." He looked at her carefully before replying. "Secondly, there's not much I wouldn't do for you, Ziva," he said softly.

She curled her toes around the arm of his chair and gently drew her leg back, pulling his chair – and him- him closer to her. She reached out and touched his cheek, gently. "And I for you, Tony."

"You should go home and rest," he replied gently, not moving, her hand still on his cheek.

"You should come with me and supervise," she said as her thumb traced his jaw before faintly caressing his lower lip.

"Ziva-" He started to protest, knowing that his frustration at the constant sexually-charged banter would lead him into trouble. He needed some time away.

Or so he thought.

"Come home, Tony," she whispered. "I need help packing some baby items away."

"You haven't done that yet?" he asked simply, trying to sort his thoughts while her hand created very distracting sensations on his face.

"I was waiting for you," Tony watched as she shook her head, her curls bobbing. "I wanted to know where you got that beautiful blanket."

Her hand slipped off his face and back to her lap where she self-consciously toyed with her keys again.

"And the little jumper," she continued, referring to the Italian-themed onesy he had purchased for the baby.

"About that," he said. "It wasn't meant to-"

"I thought it was perfect," she interrupted, looking up and meeting his eyes. "You will make an excellent father someday, Tony." she said, repeating her words from earlier that week.

He looked away, unable to meet her gaze. "Maybe next time I'll get to enjoy the fun parts that come with actually _making _the baby," he said, trying to lighten the mood with the only jovial comment he could come up with.

"It is a possibility," she said with a smirk. Ziva took a deep breath and steeled her nerves. "I hear that Israeli and Italian genes make beautiful children."

_Did she really just say that? _He thought. "Know any single Israeli women who wanna settle down?" he said, still in his joking voice.

She lifted a dark brow in his direction. "Tony DiNozzo wants to settle down?"

"Stranger things have been known to happen. Besides, I'm getting up in years," he teased. "Maybe its time to find a good woman and put down some roots."

"'Find a good woman?'" Ziva mocked, chuckling. "As if anyone would put up with your crap." She slid off his desk and moved towards the elevator, hearing him sling his backpack over his shoulder and follow close behind.

"You put up with my crap just fine, Ziva."

"That is only because I do not let you get away with anything, Tony," she said, feeling him settle his arm around her shoulders and pull her to him as they waited for an elevator.

"I guess I'm stuck with _you_, then. Forever and ever."

"That is most unfortunate for you, Agent DiNozzo," she teased, wrapping her own arm around his waist.

"I dunno, Zee-vah. I think I got the better end of the deal. One smart, feisty, beautiful woman to keep me in line. What did you get? Sarcastic, obnoxious phys-ed major."

"With a protective streak and a fierce right hook," she added, grinning up at him. "I think you will do just fine, Tony."


End file.
